Precision
by Trisforce
Summary: Dean, coming out of hell for four months, commits crimes for a living. All of these are trying to lure Castiel into his arms, but he has some kinks in his plan, holes he's destined to fill. Patience, torture, kill, eat. Precision. Destiel, AU, eventual smut, gore, killer-esque. Multichapter.
1. Patience

**Author's Note: Okay, I started writing this when I was in season 5 and I'm in s7 now. Yay! I'm sorry this is so short. It's very needed, though, and I like it. Of course, it's my first fic in the SPN fandom, so I hope it's good! :D **

**Oh yes, Pyro!Dean slight warning. XD **

* * *

**Precision:**

**1.** _to cut off mentally/physically or to cut off from outside connections _(informal)

**2****.** _meticulously exact _

**3****.** _of or characterized for a certain action _

"She paints her fingers with a close precision,

he starts to notice empty bottles of gin,

and takes a moment to assess the sins she's paid for."

~Panic! At the Disco, _The Ballad of Mona Lisa_

* * *

Dean huffed, lying on the bed of the cheap motel. He had a thing for cheap motels, seeing they always smelled like alcohol and sex. Heh, two of his three favorite things? Hell yeah. With his bored, dull green eyes, he glanced around the room, The walls were dark grey like dirty snow on the pavement his impala would be damned before it drove on it. A twisted, manic grin came across his face.

After passing as an alternate person, with light brown hair and dark contacts, Dean Winchester can do anything. Of course, who would know it's Dean? He's not a hunter anymore… more or less..the devil's apprentice? He didn't do things for Hell, of course, but everything he learned after being ripped out of the cage could be _damn_ useful. Especially getting the angel who pulled him out of the pit on his knees. He cackled to all these thoughts as he opened a beer.

Of course, Sam Winchester should have no idea on this...no, that was totally wrong. Dean wanted his little brother Sammy to know these things. World's greatest serial killer? Oh yes. Of course, Dean Winchester died 8 months ago, but after research and buying long tees to cover the perdition scar, Dean was more or less any serial killer anybody knew. Hannibal Lecter? Covered. Elizabeth Bathory? Covered. Beyond Birthday? Covered. But now, Dean Winchester was in charge, and he's leave a huge bite mark in all of their asses.

* * *

It was a cold, dark night, hearing owls hoot and loud, rubbery car tires scratch the blacktop. His hands fell on the impala's trunk, unlatching the latch and propping it up. As a muffled noise escaped his mouth, he re-organized his weapons. He had the legendary Colt, miraculously, and among other things, Dad's hunting journal, a gas can, knives, guns, rags, papers, condoms. All things that said 'Dean Winchester'.

After you spend what seems like decades in Hell...life begins again. Patience, torture, kill, eat. That was his mantra. He lived, and died, by those words. And he's been re-living them for four months… that's different in this world. It's more precise here. Precision is key. Of course, it's never full proof, but meh, who cares?! Don't do the crime if you can't do the time.

Speaking of 'Dean Winchester', he had done something totally him. A woman, if this wasn't complicated. She was simple, tanned skin and long legs. She looked beautiful on the wall.

Oops.

Grinning ear to ear, he carved her body as she went into a permanent sleep, a tense, sad slumber. He wiped the blood on her face, almost caressing her soft, pink cheeks. He straddled her and decided she's make a perfect canvas, something he has never experimented with before.. Dean's blood-covered hands fell over her body, stripping her and throwing the clothes in a pile by the corner. He threw gas over her and the clothes, tapping his back pocket boredly. He had to gain patience. He was going to turn into Pyro!Dean again.

Dean took a knife out and cut off the woman's ring finger, sticking it in his mouth. He dipped it in her blood and wrote on the wall.

**THIS IS FOR YOU, LISA.**

It read in precise cursive.

And with a masochistic giggle, he caught the finger on fire, throwing it on her and running out the door.

"Cause if God's left, I'm sticking to the right!"

* * *

Driving at what seemed 500 mph, the killer paused at a gas station and picked up the phone, waiting for a voicemail.

"C-Castiel...if you hear this… Know I-I...I'm going to torture you." his ominous voice growled.

Next, he called Ben's cell phone, knowing it by heart still.

"Hello?"

"Ben! Hi...It's Dean. I tried to call Lisa, but she didn't pick up, like her phone got disconnected. Can I talk to her?" Innocence.

"She's not here, she's at a friend's house." Ben said.

Dean stayed silent for a moment, knowing there was a heart deep down in him. He may or may not have orchestrated to meet up with Lisa...maybe..

"Ben. Do me a favor, call this number-"

And so Dean did it. Gave Ben Bobby's number...Ben did need a place of protection, right? He was a parent enough to keep him safe and out of his scheme.

* * *

"RAMBLE ON!" The impala roared, the killer singing with it. The only thing Dean has realized is that he doesn't feel guilt like before...like turning over a new leaf. Guilt drags you down (to Hell) and back up.

Living a 'normal' life, he stopped at a Shell station and looked at his own notes, adding death counts. Dean Winchester was wanted for many murders- killing people about to be victims of demons, killing people to fuck with Sam, killing people for experiments...all to get to this angel he heard legends of. But it must be true, because..the mark on his shoulder. He just wanted this angel.  
Almost daily, Dean 'prayed'. Oh yes, 'prayed'. Oh no, 'prayed'. As in, crossed demonic rituals with angelic chants. Okay, so Dean wasn't exactly right in the head.

"Castiel! Come quick!" he called, knowing that would be the last thing he would do.

* * *

"I'm Sam's brother." Dean introduced with a pearly white smile.

"I'm Jai," he introduced back, leaning on the door hinge with a bored look in his blue eyes. "What do you want? I haven't talked to Sam in years.."  
"Can I please come in?" Dean's voice turned urgent, like a piercing needle.

* * *

And then Jai was thrown down, lifeless from poison. Oops. Dean smirked and licked his lips, pulling out a knife and cutting near his own elbow at the wall.

**THIS IS FOR YOU SAM.**

And thus, Dean Winchester ran like a cheetah.

* * *

Whether he wanted to get a message out to Sam or not, he didn't know. The was one thing on his mind: _Castiel_. Covered in bloodlust. Covered in pain. Begging for mercy. Begging for hope. That, this-was ideal for Dean's new sharp taste. After all, he liked it in Hell, and the man who pulled him out would have to be punished. It was the order of things. Tit for tat. Eye for an eye. However it was, Dean wanted his end of the bargain...and he was going to get it, for sure. Biting down on his fake lip ring, he watched the news from the middle of the diner.

A short, busty redhead was talking. "Dean Winchester has traveled across the country, killing innocent people. We are not at the moment seeing connections with the victims, but we can prove that it is in fact, Dean Winchester. Mr. Winchester, we can find you, and we will." and a picture of him with bright blonde hair shows up.

"One beer, please," he mumbled to the tender of the diner.

"You kinda look like the Dean guy.." the tender murmured, bright hazel eyes in suspicion as he handed him the bottle. Dean tossed the money at him.

"Tch. Please don't associate me with trash."

* * *

And now that people were noticing him. he had to go with his backup plan.  
Stealing Sam's laptop for the thousandth time.

* * *

**Documentary of references:**

**Hannibal Lecter (which has even been mentioned in Supernatural). Killer who bit off peoples cheeks (i.e. 'Hannibal the Cannibal')  
Beyond Birthday. Death Note Another Note: The LABB Murder Cases. He was a backup and tried to be the world's greatest criminal.**

**Elizabeth Bathory, real person. She bathed in virgin's blood. She's also mentioned in Death Note: Another Note. Hehe.**

**Panic! At the Disco, song The Ballad of Mona Lisa, one of the reasons I started this.**

**Led Zeppelin, Ramble On. One of Dean's favorite songs. **

**Tumblr. 'specially angelonyourdoorstep for the idea. Idea, of course. Not exactly what you imagined, probably. **

**Until next time? (;**


	2. The Road to Torture

**Sorry it took so long..I hope I make up for it, yeah?**

* * *

"Grab the laptop and go, Dean… grab it, go…." he mumbled to himself, tiptoeing around Sam's place.

And the lights flipped on unexpectedly, making Dean freeze in shock. He hadn't expected his brother to be home, especially this late.

"Hey, brother," Sam said with a mocking 'welcome home' tone, tapping his left foot on the floor below him. "I see you like slaughtering heads and putting them on sticks. I'd be for that, but only if they were, oh, I don't know, monsters?!"  
Dean tensed up sternly, pursing his lip. "Shut up, Sammy. I need your damn laptop."

"...Why are you doing this, Dean?" Sam's lip somewhat quivered, him trying to stay as stoic as possible. "W-what's the gain?"

"Amusement, pride, revenge…" Dean smiled slightly, raising a brow at him cautiously. "Do you need to know exact details? You're smart enough to catch on. Right? Or maybe it's me and my demented psyche talking."

"You're killing people, Dean..and I don't understand why.." Sam mumbled, his voice fading inaudible as the sentences grew.

"I'm tracking the man who pulled me from hell, Sam. 'Castiel' or whatever. I'm going to kill him," he grinned, tilting his head and looking for the laptop.

"Why?"

"He deserves to be punished," he protested. "I liked it in hell."

"Yeah, right Dean. I don't know what you've done- but I know that's not you talking. The Dean I know..the Dean I grew up with.. He'd never, ever like it in hell."

Dean huffed. "After Hell...nothing is the same.. the life I had.. It's all too clingy, too lazy. Unorganized. Unplanned. In Hell, it's all precise. Precision is what keeps you going strong-it's a life skill. And my life...lacked precision. It lacked basic human knowledge. Basic understanding of feelings; with this life, feelings don't mean a rat's ass. It's finally good to say there was order. Keeping order..It's needed, Sam.. It keeps me going."

Sam pursed his lip, analyzing his words. "It means hurting everything you once loved?"

"I wouldn't kill you, of course. I'm not a monster. Ben, You, and Bobby are off-limits." He offered a slight smile.

"..."  
"It's going to be okay, Sam. Kill Castiel, the angel, then make my way back to hell. I've done it once, I can do it again."

Sam sauntered around, pacing and grabbing his hair. "Why kill an angel? Revenge, sure, but no ordinary angel can just die-"

"There are methods of torture. Then kill him. That's why I need your laptop. I need to find out how to kill an angel.. It's not normal to do this, which is why I have to."

"Do you really think I'd let you have my laptop?"  
"Hell no." Dean grinned manically. "But I know you're weak and wouldn't try to physically harm me, right, brother?" he loved to contradict people, hoping Sam would catch on.

* * *

Dean finally broke, his green eyes glistening with tears. His face was covered in his own blood, his lip busted and his cheek slashed. It took a bit to restrain him, both Sam and Bobby hitting him and finally they just knocked him out. He was standing against a board, arms chained and cuffed over his head. It was very uncomfortable, but it was punishment, right? He's done worse, from hanging people on ceiling fans to chopping up their legs.

"L-look, Sam! I know killing him isn't sane, but it has to be done! What choice do I have?!" he grunted as he watched a tear fall down his cheek, the translucent liquid mix into crimson red. It made no difference to his sweaty shirt.  
"You could pray for forgiveness, you idjit." Bobby murmured, a bottle to his lips. He scowled like a disappointed father with his son.  
"No!" the chained one protested, lip wobbling. "I don't have faith, I never have! And I never will!"  
Sam huffed and rolled his eyes. "We could've worked this out together, Dean. But you can't bring back the people you killed, you know. They're dead because of you." He walked up to his face, clenching his jaw. "My friend, really? Lisa?! Who else did you kill?"  
Dean tried not to smirk. "Rhonda Hurley, Amanda Heckerling-"

"You're fucking sick," Sam spat in his face, making a ridicule remark. "Who else? The guy that sold you joints?"  
"Nah. I only threatened him, and he kinda just gave me everything he had. He's still in business, you know. Don, yeah." He shrugged, raising a brow. "Well, he was still in business. Probably not now.. heh."  
Dean shifted at the sound of footsteps, hurrying and ample. They sounded a bit small, they didn't have a ring to them like Sam's or Bobby's- which Sam and Bobby were in the same room as him. "B-Ben..?" He glared at Bobby in disgust. "You didn't lock him in his room with a PSP or something?! What the hell is wrong with you?!"  
"I'm saying the same, Dean." He retorted, watching a child walk in the room. It was Ben, his eyelids a little gray with lack of sleep.  
"H-Hi, Ben," Dean grinned sheepishly, a slight feeling of disgust in his stomach. Ben had to see what he is, though, know that that's technically his father.. It wasn't right, but Dean just wanted a damn job done. He had to have repercussions, sure! After escaping various prisons, he figured facing Ben would be the last thing he had to do anytime soon.  
Ben gasped but then made his face turn stoic, standing up straight and looking through him. "Hi Dean. You look down." Ben sounded slightly panicked, looking back at Sam and Bobby. "My TV is broken! The screen is all fuzzy and showing a face and I-I don't know what's going on!"  
An ear-splitting E screech hit the building, cracking some windows. Dean braced himself, wincing, preparing for glass to his him in the face. This happened a few times, and of course, he knew if was Castiel trying to communicate somehow. Sam and Bobby fell to their knees, clutching their ears.

"Fucking hell," Dean grumbled, feeling the need to vomit. "Not again, goddammit."  
Bobby's bottle fell, and the noises and the shaking stopped immediately. Dean just had a feeling… a superstitious paranoia that Castiel was around him, he could feel it.

"Ben! Get upstairs!" Bobby yelled as he somewhat-ran up with him, not paying attention to anything else. Both Bobby's and Ben's footsteps patted differently, creating a sound of panic. It eased Dean down a bit, allowing him to take slow breaths.

"...And here, Cas. I thought it'd take you longer." Dean laughed almost satirically, grinning and thrashing his head upwards. His braces unlocked, and he stretched out his back, making a slight sound of pleasure escape him. "I knew you'd come around someday," he clicked his wrists and his knuckles slowly, raising a brow. "But come on, Cassie. Show my brother what ya look like, hmm?" Dean turned his head to the back of the room.

A brunette man walked out of the darkness, shoes tapping on the broken glass below him. He had a scruffy face, and piercing blue eyes, and they were directed at Dean. This man didn't look too happy, almost pissed. But he handled it well, standing a few inches behind Dean and the board (Dean had only moved his arms around- other than that, he kept as still as possible.)

When he looked at Sam (who was sweaty and panicky) his facial expressions calmed. "My name is Castiel, and I'm an Angel of the Lord." He walked over and extended his hand. Sam took it reluctantly, his hand jittery. Castiel smiled slightly and spoke again; "Hi, Sam. My sincerest apologies for your brother getting you involved in this. This is a deal between him and I, not you."

Dean rolled his eyes and grunted. Castiel turned to glare at him, stepping in front of him and remaining stoic. "You've done very naughty things, Dean."

He smirked devilishly at him. "Nothing you wouldn't do to pull me out of the Pit, right? Don't be a hypocrite. You're as much of a sinner as I." Dean mused, licking the corner of his lip.

Castiel stood silent for a few moments. "Don't forget what happened down in Hell, Dean Winchester. You needed to be delivered."

"I didn't want to come back, Cas-!"  
"Guys," Sam huffed, almost bored. "This is not the time for a gay prissy fit."  
Castiel looked over at Sam, looking confused. "This is a civil discussion, between us, Sam. Please don't interrupt, it's quite rude."

"You look like you're about to slaughter each other. Or fuck each other. I can't tell. Either way, I don't like it."  
"Well, I don't like how you locked up your own brother." Castiel turned around, his blue eyes spearing into Sam's. He broadly walked around Dean, who still refused to move. Dean waved a hand in front of his mouth, yawing, bored.

"For the same reason, he killed Lisa. He's a monster,"

"That was a little glitch in the program, Sam. If he was such a monster, you'd be bleeding from your chest now. Same with Bobby or Ben. He spares people out of the kindness of his heart." He replied quickly, watching the 'monster's actions. He was bored, picking dried blood from his fingernails. Not like Dean cared much about this conversation anyway; there was no reason to protest when he knew Castiel would do it for him.

"Shut up, you two-" Dean interjected, glaring at Castiel. "Especially you, angel. I am not a monster. I'm just trying to be precise, something you people need to gain hold of."

Cas locked his eyes on him, not smiling, but not scowling, either.

"I am not a monster," Dean repeated, grinning ear to ear, widening his vivid green eyes. "Maybe Hell fucked me up and over, but I don't think 'monster' is even in the ballpark. Dedicated. That sounds better...bittersweet."

"Oh so dedicated, considering you wanted me here." Castiel murmured, looking away.

"Heh, you came, did you not?" Dean snorted.

"Guys." Sam interjected, taking a sigh and raising his eyebrows.

Castiel's eye twitched for a second, then he grabbed Dean's wrists and locked them up, Dean protesting and grumbling. He tried kicking him in the crotch, but failed, and Cas got his wrists and the cuffs sooner than Dean thought possible. Dean groaned, rolling his eyes and then glared at him, bored.

"What now?" Dean mused sarcastically, chin dipping to his neck.

Sam snickered, watching them and opening a bottle.

"Get on your knees, Dean."

"Whoa-!" Sam said, sitting the opened bottle down.

Castiel rolled his eyes, pushing Dean down and him grunting. He couldn't resist, though, because Castiel was too strong, using some sort of angelic power over him.

"Why am I dow-"

"Dean Winchester. You must pay for your sins, bathe in all that is glory. You lack faith, faith needed for forgiveness. I can't forgive you until you admit that you'll try to make it right-"

"Are you trying to make me your bitch?" Dean laughed and stood up. "No, Cas. I'm not yours. You're mine. You know why? I'm the guy with the big guns here. I've got the spell to banish you to Heaven. I've got everything against you, and you know what you did? You raised me from perdition. I was fine there. I fit in, for once! But now I'm stuck back on Earth! For what?! For your game! And you know what?! I quit, Castiel! I'm done with you. I'm tired of you, I'm tired of everything paranormal! I want a regular life! And maybe if I can get my guardian angel off my ass I can! I quit, Castiel."

"You can't quit, Dean. It's your destiny. And I have to fill this out, no matter my personal preferences or yours. Or Sam's. And that's just life. And you need a dose of it- you need a dose of faith-"

"Let me go, Cas." Dean growled, clenching his fists into Cas's trenchcoat. "Do it now before I start lusting for your blood. I'm just annoyed at the moment, not deadly. Let me go,"

Castiel took a deep breath and the chain snapped, Dean smiling and letting him go. Sam, of course, stood there.

"What the hell, Castiel?! He's just using you for his game!" He grumbled, moving Dean back.

Dean laughed maniacal-like as he pulled a box of matches out and lit them, falling onto the floor and taking a huge step back.

"I told you I wasn't your bitch, Castiel. You're mine~."


	3. Acceptance

**Short chapter so sorry oops**

* * *

"Dean," Castiel mumbled impatiently, leaning on his toes and his head falling down to glare at him. "This is unnecessary and childish. Let me go."

Dean felt a wave of adrenaline pump through his bones, making him giddy, like the child the angel was claiming him to be. A grin like a wild animal appeared on his face, a large inhuman noise escaping his lips. He was excited. Castiel is surrounded in holy fire, for fuck's sake. And he couldn't escape! The green eyed mundane had been dreaming of this ever since he had discovered who the hell pulled him out of the cage. Of course he was in love- this was like a weapon he could only use once; and then realize he could use it repeatedly. Teasing, abuse, amusement, whatever it may be. Cas was useless against Dean, useless. And the man loved every god forsaken moment of it.  
Sam, on the other hand, looked woozy and confused, pushing his hair back to hold out the frustration to yell at his brother.

"No it's not," Dean replied harshly, circling around Castiel like he was before. The taps of his large shoes echoed the room, illuminated by the circle of hazy orange, flamboyant yellow, and mystic crimson. "It's brilliant. Thoughtful. Manic and unique. How dare you insult me by saying that it's childish. I find it useful and beautiful.. It wounds me, Cassie."

"Why are you calling him Cassie?" Sam finally spoke, calming himself enough to that point.

"Angels aren't here known by gender. Besides, Castiel looks a little submissive at the moment, why shouldn't he be Cassie?"

"...Fair enough," the younger brother uttered, setting his hands in his pockets. "...But let him go, Dean. It's ridiculous."  
Cas huffed simultaneously with Dean.

"It's not that it's ridiculous, Sam- it's that your brother has taken advantage in my weaknesses even before the time-clock hits an hour. He's been studying me and my movements. I see how in your mind it's ridiculous, but I also very much get his side, also."  
Dean raised a brow. A pound of confusion hit him, but dear god he wouldn't show that. "You act as if you studied me in your free time."

"Well, I didn't pull you out of Hell for my amusement." Castiel growled back, shifting on his feet impatiently.

"Bite me." Dean made a ridicule face, snarling and cracking his knuckles. "Flattery will get you nowhere. Now tell me, Castiel, Angel of the Lord, why did you pull me out of hell?"

He blinked a bit, then looked at Sam. "I-I'd rather not say with your brother present.."

"Am I not trustworthy?" Sam asked defensively, his right eye twitching in anger.

"No, no.. It's not that, but it's private. I'm taking into consideration that Dean would not want you to know." Cas pursed his lip.

"Go, Sammy."

* * *

Dean growled slightly, hearing the mock tone in Castiel's voice as he was explaining. It made him slightly flustered at him, his eyebrow twitching as he popped open a beer bottle and then returning back to the death glares they were spearing at each other beforehand. All of this, did, in turn, make Dean curious as to the true reasons to the contemplating words being spit from Cas's mouth.

"Dean, are you even _listening_ to me?" Cas said patiently, but filled with snide and boredom.

"Sure," Dean shrugged with his lips against the glass, voice echoing around the room.

Cas rolled his blue eyes.

Dean had to admit, Castiel did have blue eyes the sky would be jealous of, especially in contrast to the reds and oranges spiraling around him. It made sense- he was an angel, after all. Plus an angel knows how to pick a vessel (Dean had prior knowledge on this- it was just manic enough for him to understand. Not that he cared much about God and religion, anyways..)  
Castiel huffed overzealously. "I went through trillions of miles to drag you from the core. I dealt with conditions the exact opposite of all of my life. This was against my benefit. Now, let's bring up the reasons you went to Hell-"

"I'd rather not bring up Sam and Lucifer and that shit, thank you." Dean said in monotone, closing his eyes and taking a long sigh. He hated bringing up the worst parts of the Pit, and the reasons he was there was definitely the worst.

"Are you uneasy, Dean?"

Dean grunted, taking a long swig from the bottle. Like hell he would answer that question.

"Dean, I know your nightmares. I had observed you very closely. I know you, Dean Winchester. Do not undermine me, despite the fact I am surrounded by holy fire."

Dean glared at him once more, looking into those spectacular blue eyes. "Oh yeah, sinner? Why are you burning in flames, anyways~?"  
Castiel glared back, easing his neck a bit and looking into Dean's emerald eyes. Dean didn't know what to think of this. What was him and glaring? Passed him by, him pondering other possibilities. "It's because I made the decision to be here.." he mumbled, softly and quietly, like a soft dandelion.

Dean grunted and turned away, holding the bottle in his hand and grasping it so tight his knuckles were turning white. "..What the hell ever." He growled, throwing the bottle at the wall and it making a million shattering noises against the plaster sentiment, him obviously uneasy now. He just didn't get it- why couldn't he get a straight answer, even with him being caged up? Dammit, Dean wanted to kill him right then and there.

But he wanted to torture him. To ruin him. To savor his bittersweet memories. Make him wish he could take the little devil Dean was back down to hell, make him take a double take at the monster he had interfered with creating. He wanted- needed to rot him from the inside.  
He blinked at the broken glass on the ground, making a somewhat indifferent face and turned his head to the flames surrounding his angel, making eye contact with him. "I'll let you go as long as you agree to do whatever I say." He said in monotone, not changing his face into hysteria nor permissive.

"Why would I ever agree to that?" Castiel answered back, returning the over-robotic voice and indifferent facial expression.

"Because you once said you'd do anything for me, Cas. And you have to make up for me now. I need you. Cas. Please. I'm about to break here, I'm about to become fragile. You can pull me through all of that._ Please_, Cas. I know you can do this for me, I'm on the last leg that's holding me up. I fucking need you."

The only thing ringing through Dean's mind was torture, torture, torture.. The blonde was aware he was a bit sociopathic, but not socio_pathetic_. He was begging Castiel for a favor he should have demanded him to do, whether Castiel liked it or not. Cas would obviously give everything up to him already- why wouldn't he agree to whatever Dean wants?  
After millenniums of seconds pass, Castiel nodded solemnly.

_"People will do you if you're a doable- mentally, physically, sexually, spiritually, financially, you name it."_ Cas mumbled slowly, echoing it into Dean's brain with a faint ring to the sound.

Dean lifted a hand to his head and blinked, feeling almost an instant headache. Groaning, he looked back up at Castiel, who looked the exact same as before.

"I accept, Dean."

Dean turned his shoulders to him in a vast motion, holding the smile to himself in pride as he lowered his arm. "This is going to be..so..amusing."

* * *

**sorry it's short again oops**


End file.
